What A Man Is What A Man Isn't
by BerryCoffeeCake
Summary: One-shot. Dr. Tenma gives a charity lesson in manhood to his future wife's stalker. Collaborative Story. Please look inside for more info, and a better summary. Not rated M for sexuality.


((A/N: Hello loyal fans of Magnacarter! I, Berry Coffee Cake, have written, in collaboration with her, this one shot based on chapter seven of her story _Mother Of The Child And The Creation_ . If you haven't already read it up to that point, you might be a little confused as to what it is is going on so I'll do my best to provide an accurate summary of it all within my own writing. Please though, if you haven't read the above mentioned story up to chapter seven, please do so. It's well worth it! Believe me!))

**Lemon**

"_Where are you dear? Will you be back before dinner?"_

Dickens, Laurence Lemon answered the high pitched voice on the other end of his cellular phone mechanically. Without emotion. "Yes mother. I'll be back before dinner."

"_Don't forget to call me on your way home! And stop by the store and pick up a box of my special cream for me!"_

Lemon gritted his teeth…grinded them together unconsciously. Eye's narrowing to slits. Why couldn't the wrinkly old bitch get her own damn itch cream? He responded again, the same way. Tonelessly. Without feeling.

"Yes mother."

"_Goodbye Laurence! Don't forget to call me if they give you good news up at the place!"_

Lemon shuddered, clicked the phone shut, and shoved it in his coat pocket. Her voice had turned crackley and dry at the end of her last sentence. She had probably only moments ago just gotten done gargling her signature mixture of soda water and lime juice to get the smell of 'old' out of her mouth before she'd called him. She sickened him. Everything about his elderly, sunken, preachy mother absolutely sickened him. She had ruled him for practically all his life. His father's life too…but he'd been lucky enough to escape the dottering old biddie by kicking the bucket seven years ago. Lemon had been left alone to tend to his mother's needs. And her needs had been many.

All through high school, day after day, he'd come home and poured himself over his school work and various household chores his mother had wanted him to do. Chores that could easily have been done by the capable robot servant they'd had that she'd spent the majority of his college fund on, when robots were a relatively new commodity. No. She used the robot for other things. Things she deemed much…MUCH more important than simple house work. The robot drew her baths. Drove her around town. Put curls in her then, shiny, dirty blonde hair, and rubbed itch cream into the various unsavory places she claimed to have itches. He, in the meantime had washed dishes, folded laundry, and was even charged with the task of taking care of whatever work needed to be done in the yard as well. Most of his high school career had been spent either sleeping, working, or studying, and anytime he had deviated from this schedual in any way , shape, or form her shrill voice had burst through his happy reverie and brought him back down to the hell that was his life. He'd had no time for dating, or even talked to a girl until his senior year of high school when he'd finally convinced the nasty old harridan that he'd be more of use to her outside the house working and making money. Finally…FINALLY …at that point..he had been able to gain a modicum of control over his life. Set some of his own goals. Meet people. Go places. Do things. _See things._ Things other than his mother's slowly, wrinkling..thickening, sinking frame. And the moldy denchers floating in a glass on her bedside table….the lamp light behind them making them look like something in a specimen jar off a sci-fi movie.

Lemon closed his eyes and swallowed hard. It most certaintly would NOT do to be thinking about things like that when he had a very important date-er-_interview_—coming up. He opened his eyes, pushed back the baige sleeve of his overcoat and looked at his watch. An hour and a half. A single, thick, white snow flake fell directly onto the face of his watch, and he looked up, squinting slightly. The Ministry of Science was a very large and imposing building. Several stories high. A lot of sharp points and angles. Lemon frowned. It definitely wasn't built to go with the landscape….or to be particularly aesthetically pleasing. It would likely take him a while to find the office he was looking for and he was pretty early for his appointment…so perhaps…since it was beginning to snow …no one would mind if he took a look around inside. It was _technically_ what he was here for anyway. He grinned, and carried himself up the concrete steps to the entrance of the building. In just an hour and a half he was going to see the first non-drooping pair of naturally pink lips he'd seen in six months!

**Hoshie**

"Don't look at me like that Umataro! You know what the hell I'm talking about!"

The silky black eyebrows of one Dr. Umataro Tenma rose. His expression changed into one of mock confusion. He held up his hands on either side of himself, shaking his head from side to side to further perpetuate his obvious lie.

"Why I'm sure I haven't the slightest recollection of what paper it is you're talking about Amelia!"

"The _application_!"

She stamped her foot hard on the last word, her fists clenched at her side, honey brown eyes boring holes into his chest. He was an asshole. No..worse than that. A pimple on the ASSCRACK of society is what he was! Today…of all the days for him to choose to piss her off he _had_ to choose today! Today, when the biggest mistake of her seven year-long college career was going to walk through the door -sit in the office chair in front of her desk-and pant at her like a bitch in heat all in the pretense of trying to get a job!

"You _promised me_ damn you!"

"I'm afraid I don't have any recollection of making any promises to you either, my dear. Unless…of course…it involves me giving you your just desserts for using my first name in the office."

Amelia felt her jaw drop and her face start to heat up. The mocking confusion had given way to a sinister gleam in his eyes and his arms were folded against his chest, head cocked to one side looking behind her. She glanced back worriedly over her shoulder at the gleam of silver under the little couch on the other side of the office. Why had the gods decided to curse her with a masochistic freak for a boss? Why her? She looked back at him and swallowed, and unclenched her fists, making an attempt at a smile she hoped was not too tinged with the nervousness she was feeling.

" _?_"

He unfolded his arms and leaned back in his chair….grinning. Grinning and looking up at her through his thick black eyelashes. She swallowed again and looked him all over, reclining in his leather desk chair. Wearing that purple brocade dress vest with those gold buttons….and those perfectly tailored pants and shined to perfection Italian leather shoes. Whoever the ruler of the universe was or whoever _they_ were… must have TRULY..TRULY hated her in that moment. One minute she wanted to slap the ever loving hell out of him, the next she wanted to run to the court house and get a restraining order. THEN she wanted to hop over the desk and jump his bones. What the hell was wrong with her? She did her best to keep her composure. Lord help her if he ever picked up on some of the stuff she thought of on a daily basis. She'd never get peace then.

"Yes, _Amelia_?"

"I handed you an application two weeks ago…for a man by the name of Dickens Laurence Lemon. Did you look at it at all by any chance?"

Tenma pushed a bit of his weight into the back of the desk chair, making it rock back and forth, still looking up at her through his lashes.

"You mean the one for the…_ahem_…Steward_ess_ position?"

Amelia sighed. He was going to be a complete dick about this. She could already see it coming.

"Yes."

"You do know a Steward_ess_ is supposed to be a woman…correct?"

She rolled her eyes.

"YES Umatar-I ! I know a Steward_ess_ is supposed to be a woman…but he has good experience and I know he'll work hard—and besides-it'll be you he'll be spending most of his time picking up after anyway."

Tenma stopped his rocking and sat up in his chair, leaning forward with a spark of curiosity in his eyes. She bristled. Please don't let him ask any questions! Please! She just wanted to get in her car, go home, get a hot bath and crawl into her bed and wait for Sasha and Gordon to get back from their holiday celebrations with their families!

"Oh…so you _know_ the applicant? Why do you want _me_ to interview him _first_ if he's a personal friend? It's _your_ jobto do the first set of interviews. Why so keene to get away? "

"I-I have something I have to get done today…and you'd already said you'd do it for me."

She felt a little wave of triumph flood through her when she saw him frown. And another more pronounced one of relief. It looked like he wasn't going to press it any farther. He'd just do what he knew he'd promised her he'd do two weeks ago and not make it any more difficult. She watched him glance down at his watch, and then bring his glassy, dark gaze back up to look at her.

"What time is this….Dickens Laurence Lemon going to be here?"

"I told him to be here by two. He's almost always on time.."

She fought down a grimace as she said the last sentence.

"Is he?"

"Er..yes."

There was a long moment of silence in which she just stood, stock still, in front of his desk. Him looking at her. She looking at him. She wasn't sure what else exactly she should say, and he had yet to give her a definite answer as to whether or not he would take over Lemon's interview for her. She really hoped he would. He'd already said he would previously, and she'd told herself after her run in with Lemon at the grocery store a month before when he'd asked if there were any job openings here, that after that…she would have no more to do with him ever again. The seven years in college she'd spent with him had been quite enough. She didn't get how he'd come to be so obsessed with her in the first place anyhow.

The first time she'd spoken to him their sophomore year in college, it had been more a gesture of kindness rather than her expressing any real mutual interest in him as a person. He'd been studying in robotics back then, along with her, and the few other students who had managed to make the cut into the advanced class. He'd been a quiet sort of guy. Never spoke much to anyone, save a few lowly muttered sentences to the teacher or any project partners he was working with. One day, as meat-headed jocks often do …be they at a high school or at a University, they started bullying him. First it was just knocking his books out of his hands and pushing him. Kid's stuff. Then it progressed to wegdies. Swirlies, and then just full on public beatings and humiliations in the parking lot. She being who she was, and not wanting to see any person…whoever they were…being tortured like that…stepped in and made them back off. Ever since then he had been like a big, itchy scab that still wasn't quite dry enough to come completely off.

The quiet, shy guy she thought she'd saved from a daily ritual of beatings and humiliation, actually turned out to have quite a lot to say. In fact, after that day, he almost _never_ shut his mouth. Especially around her. The constant talking wouldn't have been so bad if it hadn't later progressed to him following her to her dorm room each day gadding about Study Abroad trips he'd never have the grades to take and other things she just didn't care about. And she was happier than she could have ever been when it turned out he actually DID have the grades to go. No more listening to him complain about the jocks or his mother for a whole semester! Or at least that's what she'd thought. A week after the students for the trip to Africa had supposedly taken off, the idiot showed up on her doorstep, pale as death, sweating, and holding a bouquet of roses in his hand he had spent all his pitiful little Mc''Donald's check on. She'd known the minute she saw the roses what he was going to do….and to Amelia's everlasting shame…she hadn't just turned him down right then and there. She'd taken pity on him again. Taken pity on his sweaty, pale face. He had looked like he was going to wet himself the whole time he was attempting to ask her out…and feeling sorry for him….AGAIN…she'd said yes. Why couldn't Lemon have fallen for anyone but her? Why couldn't she have had somebody six foot four and insane looking like Tenma to scare him away back then?

The acidity in Tenma's voice when he spoke next, made her nearly jump out of her skin.

"You could have been honest with me from the beginning, _Ms. Maeyumi_."

He'd used her last name. He NEVER used her last name. Not even during board meetings out of any kind of respect for her in front of their peers! Most people…including her…had learned to accept it as him just showing the dominant side of his personality. He was the Minister of Science. He controlled everything. And enjoyed controlling everything. He didn't think twice about calling anyone in the office by their first name. Even though it was obscenely unprofessional in a lot of the situations they found themselves in. He only went back to using last names when he was feeling rushed or under pressure or pissed about something. She looked at the clock and let her body slump in exasperation. What had she done _now_ for pity's sake? She just wanted to get the hell out of here before Lemon came in!

"What're you talking about?"

"I'm talking about your sudden desire to shirk your contractual duties. You're avoiding this Lemon character."

"Why do you have to talk to me in that tone of voice? I'm not a child!"

"You're acting like one."

"FUCK YOU!"

"Pull up your skirt."

"YOU'RE SICK!"

"That I am. Why are you avoiding Lemon?"

"Why can't you just do the fucking interview for me? Why can't you just be a nice _normal_ man?"

"Nice _normal_ men don't get the joy of watching self-empowered women like you, quiver under their gaze. Why are you avoiding Lemon?"

Amelia, shaking from both rage….and a little tingle of arousal…snapped her honey brown eyes down to the top of his high polished wooden desk looking for something to pick up and throw at him.

"Hmm. Since it seems you aren't going to be forthright with me and just come out with it…I'll try my hand at guessing."

She took her eyes off the top of his desk and brought her heated angry gaze to bear on him. His voice still had the irritated edge in it, but his face, which he was holding up with an up-turned palm, propped up by an elbow on the shiny surface of the desk, now looked eerily calm.

"Is he an old boyfriend perhaps?"

Tenma's glassy, navy blue eye's narrowed slightly.

"Or a current one you're in the process of trying to scrape off?"

She glanced over at the clock. He feet were starting to hurt from standing up so long in heels. Her anger was starting to ebb away into sadness…and she felt a dull ache behind her eyes.

"Niether Tenma. I just don't have any desire to see him."

"Why not?"

"Because…"

"Because?"

"Can I please sit down? My feet are starting to hurt.."

"Certaintly."

She looked behind her again and frowned. No chair. She looked back toward him, and for the second time, he made her jaw drop. He was patting his knee.

"I am NOT-!"

"You will if you don't want to lose your job. Now sit."

"This is sexual harassment! I could sue you for this!"

"But you're not going to. Plus, I'm rich. I don't have to follow the rules. Get over here."

She hesitated and stared at him a moment before walking over and…taking the um…'offered seat'. He was right. Rich people _didn't_ have to follow the rules. The Michael Jackson case was proof enough of that. That..and she did kinda like the smell of his cologne on him. No one was really very like to come in either. It was the holidays. Lemon was the only appointment she'd schedualed today, and hopefully…within the next twenty minutes she could sweet talk Tenma into to taking care of that for her. God. What was she thinking? Sweet talking a crazy rich man whose lap she was currently sitting in? Perhaps the truth would be the better policy seeing as how they were in such close proximity. She sighed, leaned back, and got comfortable. He snaked his arm around her waist. Yup. Honesty was the best policy.

"I'm not dating him. I just don't like him. I don't like anything about him!"

"Go on. How do you know him?"

"We met in college. He was a quiet guy..really shy..wimpy..awkward around girls. That whole deal. The jocks always bullied him. It wasn't really so bad in the beginning. I thought he was just excited to have someone to talk to..to listen to him you know?"

"Mhm. And?"

"Gordon was the same way…but he had different reasons. Gordon tried to fight back when he could though. Lemon was another story. He just stood there and let them wail on him when I wasn't around! It was pathetic! I felt bad for him, but I was disgusted with him at the same time. I just hate people who won't stand up for themselves. It irks the hell outta me! It was like he was looking for me to be something he'd never had before."

"Like he wanted you to be the mother he never had…plus more? Or something along the lines of that?"

"Yeah."

"I see. So because you were kind to him in his hour of need he fell in love with you?"

"He didn't just _fall in love_-he became _obsessed_!"

"How so?"

"He followed me around for seven whole years. Seven years of stale, horrible, awkward, pitty dates. This past year is the one year I thought I was going to be Lemon free. Then a month ago he spotted me at the super market. He came over to say hi. I couldn't help it. Especially after listening to him talk about his money situation…I offered to see if I couldn't get him something here to help him out. And he probably took that as further evidence I must be totally in love with him too!"

He started chuckling, and she jumped slightly. His lips were right next to her ear.

"It's not funny! If it were you in this situation you wouldn't be laughing!"

"You're right Amelia. I shouldn't be laughing..seeing as how I've got competition for your affections likely prowling around somewhere downstairs."

"I—what?"

His arm unwound itself from around her waist, and he patted her thigh, signaling for her to get up off of his lap. She hopped up immediately, a deep flush spread over her cheeks and neck.

"I'll take care of your stalker for you Amelia. You can go home. Hopefully I'll be done with this in time to meet you there."

Amelia smiled, and then almost and instantaneously, frowned at what the end of his sentence implied.

He laughed again. This time out loud, and with his bearded chin stuck straight in the air.

"And you say _I _always have _my _mind in the gutter! I only meant for dinner dear! Surely you can begrudge me that much since I'm doing you this favor?"

Amelia's blush deepened. She nodded in response and walked towards the coat rack where her purse and coat had been slung when she'd walked in. If she was going to have to cook for the asshole, she needed to hurry. Inviting himself over like he fucking owned her! Now she'd have to hurry home and clean up the mess her brother's had left before she'd stuck them in a hotel due to complaints from neighbors over the noise they'd been making.

She grabbed her things and walked out. Slamming the door behind her.

**Tenma and Lemon**

The men's bathroom at the Ministry of Science. Tenma scrunched up his nose at the pungent odor of urine and bile that had just floated up it. If only his own private office bathroom was not currently being renovated.

This place made his skin crawl. It was like a subway bathroom without all the graffiti on the walls and the toilet paper on the floor. He looked over towards the urinals where a man was standing with his back to him, likely doing the same thing he himself was about to do once he got over the horrendous smell.

He sighed and after a moment, and, in accordance with the 'Man Code', walked over to one of the urinals two spaces away from the man already there and prepared to do his business. He unzipped the front of his pants, and tried as hard as he possibly could not to notice the incessant mumbling of the man next to him….who seemed to be shaking himself rather vigorously for some odd reason.

"_Just do it! Just go to the bathroom Lemon! Pretend there isn't anyone here!"_

Tenma, unlike Lemon, went easily….and on top of that, stopped to watch…with raised brows exactly what it was Lemon struggling so mightily with.

Lemon was a man of average height, with dirty blonde hair, and he was currently standing on his tip toes…rather unnecessarily…in front of the urinal with his face screwed up into an extremely pained and embarrassed expression. He shook himself again, not succeeding in drawing anything out. Tenma frowned. He wasn't exactly aiming in the bowl. If he did go, chances were he was just going to end up pissing all over the floor. _This_ was the stalker? Amelia had only said he was quiet and wimpy. She hadn't mentioned him being afraid to look at his own dick!

"_C'mon! Just GO damn you!"_

Tenma rolled his eyes, and cleared his throat loudly.

Lemon jumped a foot in the air and hastily did his pants back up, looking over his shoulder. He looked like a frightened rabbit.

"Uh—Y-yes?"

"Would you happen to be Mr. Dickens Laurence Lemon by any chance?"

Lemon turned around quickly, still trying to stuff his shirt back into the waist of his pants. Once he was done, he, unbelievably, for having been caught in such an embarrassing situation, perked up, and startled Tenma with the haughty, professional look he gave him.

"I am. And _you_ are, sir?"

Tenma resisted the urge to say 'The Devil', and gave the customary introduction of himself.

"I am Dr. Umataro Tenma. Minister of Science. I believe you had an appointment with my Vice today?"

Lemon nodded. "Ms. Amelia Maeyumi…yes. She's Vice Minister?"

Tenma walked over to the bathroom sink and proceeded to wash his hands. Lemon followed suit a bit after him, and then followed him out of the restroom.

"Yes. She is."

They were standing in the little receiving area outside of Janet's office. Thank god he was out of that damnable bathroom. He looked Lemon over again. He did definitely look like he needed a job. His dress clothes were not in the best of shape, and the stubble on his chin made him look older than he must have been. Probably couldn't afford a good razor set.

"Is..Ms. Maeyumi wanting an earlier interview? I don't have a vehicle as of right now….so I took the train here a bit early to be sure I was on time…knowing it's the holidays and all…I'm sure she wants to get home."

There was a spark of light in his eyes every time he said her name. He was definitely…._definitely _more than just a little crazy about her.

"Amelia has already gone home I'm afraid, but she asked me to do your interview in her stead."

Tenma's own, glassy, navy blue eyes sparkled with the light off of bulbs of the tiny Christmas tree sitting on Janet's vacant desk. He looked at it, and then back at the sagging figure of Lemon in front of him. Amelia had been right. He really was truly pathetic. Coming here for an interview for the sole purpose of just being able to lay eyes on her? He looked back at the little Christmas tree at the fat little Santa Claus decoration perched on top of it. Maybe just once in his life he _could _ be a '_nice normal man'_ as she'd so colorfully put it, and help this sad excuse for a man standing in front of him out a little.

He brought his eyes back to Lemon, who abruptly snapped back into to 'haughty proffessional' mode once he noticed. Tenma gave him a smile. The most morbidly suggestive smile he had ever given anyone. Anyone other than Amelia anyway. Lemon's blue eyes bucked out of his head, but he maintained his professional veneer.

"Why don't we go on into the office and get started..um..Dickens is it?"

"Yes…but I prefer Laurence if you don't mind."

Tenma raised his eyebrows once again, and kept up the suggestive smile.

"_Do_ you? Well I prefer your first name. Dickens. So very charming."

Confusion washed over Lemons face, and he turned his back on him.

"Follow me please…_Dickens._"

Tenma walked through the carefully arranged mass of seats through to his and Amelia's office door. Lemon, followed a second later, after deciding Tenma's smile was merely a product of over excursion. A man in his line of work _did_ have to talk to a lot of people. He was probably not really in very good mood at all, given he was working so late just before all the holiday festivities in town got started and whatnot. He'd probably rather be anywhere but here. Lemon himself would've given his _left nut_ to be able to spend a Christmas away from his mother.

When they entered the office, Lemon looked around. It was a lot like the rest of the inside of the building. So much softer looking. Better decorated too. He watched Tenma rifle around in one of the drawers of his desk. Likely looking for his application. Lemon felt a pang of jealous rip through him. This guy got to be in the same office with Amelia all day. _Sit next to her_ all day. He'd give his left nut to be able to do that too. Hell…he'd give his left nut just to be able to _see _her!

"Dickens?"

"Yes?"

It came out more angry than it was meant too, and he winced at the sound of his own voice. Tenma still had that weird smile on his face.

"I have some bad news I'm afraid."

"What is it..er..sir?"

"I just remembered I tore up your application almost immediately after having looked at it a week ago."

Professionalism drop.

"Why? Why would you do that? I have excellent references! Amelia-YOUR VICE MINISTER-being one of them!"

The smile was still in place. Tenma walked around the front of his desk, and sat on the edge of it with his arms folded . He sighed and cocked his head to one side, peering at Lemon out from underneath his dark lashes as he had Amelia earlier. He hadn't actually thrown the application away. He'd just needed something to use to get this little pansy thinking in another direction.

"Sit down."

"No!—No—I think I'm just gonna leave now. Thanks for your time!"

Before he could turn out and leave, Tenma kicked the rolling desk chair in front of him used for guests, at Lemon.

"Please sit down Mr. Lemon. I'd like to talk to about you my _Vice Minister._"

"I don't have anything to say _you_! Especially not about Amelia! And what do you know about her anyway?"

"I know she's more woman than a man like you can handle Dickens. Now please. Sit down."

"YOU DON'T KNOW SHIT! AMELIA-!"

"Doesn't have any interest in you, and never will. SIT DOWN."

Lemon marched over to where Tenma was. His cheap dress shoes making squeaking noises on the polished floor. His short, pudgy face was twisted in anger. He didn't sit down.

"FUCK YOU."

Tenma smirked.

"Drop your pants and spread your cheeks."

Lemon recoiled and fumbled backward into the rolling guest chair, saving the man across from him the task of having to forcibly put him there. That had had to be the sickest thing he'd ever heard uttered in his entire life! He attempted to get up, but Tenma planted his foot up against his chest preventing him from doing so. He used his other leg to pull the chair closer and keep him from rolling away. Lemon, being a weakling, thrashed around uselessy.

"Let me the hell outta here! I don't wanna talk to creep like you!"

"If you don't want to have blue balls the rest of your life you will. Now hush."

"I'm a grown man dammit! You can't _hush _me!"

"Is that what you tell your mother?"

Lemon stopped moving and glared.

Tenma leaned over further, still smirking, and blew a strand of Lemon's dirty blonde hair out of his face.

"Now that I've finally gotten your full attention _Dickens_…I'm going to tell you some things I'm fairly certain that throughout all your seven years of persuit…you never knew about our mutual friend Amelia."

Lemon was still glaring, not quite over the shock and anger of having someone other than the one person he'd told….mention his mother.

"Amelia is a strong woman. A woman of character. A woman of depth. She's also very prideful. A characteristic which sometimes gets her into trouble with her colleagues…and into to trouble with _me_ ,too."

Lemon blinked.

"I thought you were going to tell me something I _didn't_ know? I know those things about her! I've talked to her!"

"_Talking _is not _understanding_ Dickens. And if you don't understand then you don't really _know._"

Tenma lifted his left hand and began tracing the little curls of hair descending down passed Lemons ear with his pinky finger. His eyes narrowed, but he didn't move his head away. At least he didn't move his head away yet.

"Moving on now. As I'd said earlier…there's just no possible way a woman like her could ever be attracted to a man like you."

"And why couldn't she? There's nothing wrong with me! I may not be successful or rich like you-WOULD YOU STOP THAT?"

Tenma ran his pinky down Lemon's jawline and over his bottom lip where he kept it. He looked at Lemon confusedly.

"Stop what?"

"Touching me!"

"I'm not touching you Dickens. Not really. Not the way I _could_ be anyway."

Lemon tried again in vain to get out of the chair. This man was insane. Insane and a fucking fruitcake! The Father of Robotics was a goddamn fairy! And here he was—Dickens Laurence Lemon—trapped in an office with him like a cornered rat! He had to get the hell out of here! And by any means necessary!

"For fucks sake let me outta here!"

"Not until I've put some hair on your chest. Given you back your _sac_ as it were."

"What're you talking about? What do you _want_?"

Tenma tapped his pinky on Lemons trembling bottom lip, and got so close to his face, the tips of their noses touched. Lemons pasty white face erupted into crimson.

"Flirt."

"What?"

"Flirt with me."

"I'm not gonna flirt with you! Why would I wanna-?"

"To prove you're not a gutless worm like I'm sure your mother and every other woman-including Amelia—thinks you are."

"How will me playing into your perverse little game prove _that_?"

"I was behind you while you were in the rest room trying to tune out the sound of my footsteps as I was leaving. Or as you _thought_ I was leaving. You're afraid to look at your own cock. You're afraid of your mother and you're afraid of every other woman in the world except Amelia. If you can manage to jump the hurdle of being afraid of your own sexuality you'll be stronger than some of the most powerful men in the world. Now flirt."

Lemon stared, the blush in his face now beginning to show up in his ears. The initial shock he was feeling at having all of this said to him was masking everything he was feeling inside. Amelia probably loved this guy. God knows he was confident. He was sitting in his office pawing another man and talking down to him like he was an ant as if it was nothing at all. Something he did every day. And he, Lemon, slaved for his mother day in and day out. Shyly looked away when women spoke to him…and like Tenma said…didn't like looking at his own…_ugh_..cock. He'd never once in his whole life felt strong or empowered in any situation which was why he'd been attracted to Amelia..and the same reason why she could never in a million years be attracted to him.

Lemon sighed, looked over Tenma's face, gave it some thought, and let it rip.

"Your eyes were made for only…one thing."

Smirk.

"And what's that?"

"Seeing me with no clothes on."

Lemon shut his eyes tightly right after he said it. He knew it sounded corny. Corny and stupid. He felt Tenma's breathe blow across his face again and heard him start to laugh. Then he felt him take his foot out of the middle of his chest. He opened his eyes a smidge nervously, expecting to hear something snide said about his attempt, but instead…Tenma gave him a standing ovation.

"Good job Dickens! Good job! Most original thing I've heard all year!"

"Really?"

Lemon sat up in the computer chair smiling. Looking hopeful. Enjoying the praise.

Tenma stopped clapping.

"Of course not, I'm fucking with you. That was awful. But you _did_ try though. That's the thing. You _did_ try. As long as you try, you can't ever really fail. Now take that little tidbit of information with you and get the hell out of my office you pansy!"

**-End**

((A/N: Hope you enjoyed that Magna!))


End file.
